


The Body Politic

by wimblydonner



Category: Arrested Development
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Femslash, Fisting, Rival Sex, Seduction, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 12:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wimblydonner/pseuds/wimblydonner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lindsay and Sally both think they're seducing the other into a sex scandal that will end her political career.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Body Politic

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2013 Annual Femslash Kink Meme. Prompt: "Lindsay/Sally, rivalry"

Lindsay was pretty sure she had Sally Sitwell's number in this Congressional race. She'd already nearly brought down _one_ campaign with charges of sexual misconduct. It was obvious that all she needed to do was to seduce Sally, record their encounter, and then expose Sally's sexual misconduct to force her out of the race. She could make a gig out of this.

Maeby rolled her eyes. "Won't that also be _your_ sexual misconduct?" 

"Oh, Maeby, you're so naive." 

Tobias stood up from the couch. "Well, if you're counting on me to be 'the good wife' up there beside you during any sex scandal, I'm afraid I must decline," he proclaimed. "If I'm going to be kneeling down in front of anyone in public, it's a different candidate. Can you believe who I just heard on television is mounting a campaign for governor? _Carl Weathers_." 

"First off, shouldn't you be _behind_ him? Second, I'm pretty sure that was a Saturday Night Live sketch." 

Tobias didn't seem to hear and simply pumped his fist. "Oh, that Carl. I can't wait until I get alone in the booth on Election Day and punch _his_ hole." 

And that was how Lindsay came to submit the winning bid on a date with her high school rival at a charity date auction. It cost her most of her campaign budget, and she hoped Michael never found out the identity of the "Hermana" woman who had outbid him, but she had a foolproof plan to become the next Madam Congresswoman from the great state of California. 

Lindsay arrived at Sally's in her most alluring outfit: her bright red "SLUT" t-shirt and a borrowed pair of stripper pants. What woman couldn't resist _that_? 

She probably wouldn't have gotten very far except for the fact that Sally, having heard that Herbert Love was about to be brought down by charges of sexual misconduct, had resolved to also entrap his successor. Her plan was similar to Lindsay's, except slightly better: seduce Lindsay, record a sex tape, _and_ scrub her own image from the record using that new Internet privacy software she'd heard about. 

Sally answered the door in nothing more than a loose, tiny robe that really wouldn't have been covering _anything_ at all had Sally not been holding it shut across her chest. "Oh! I'm still getting ready," she said. 

_Well, that was a freebie,_ Lindsay thought. "Great," said Lindsay, "I was thinking we could just stay in anyway." 

She followed Sally inside. Lindsay was certain she was here to seduce Sally, that she was going to be the one in charge and that silly, useless Sally the one wrapped around her finger and begging for more. But, as she trailed Sally down the hall, her eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the shifts of Sally's robe that revealed and then concealed slender, perfectly smooth thighs. Even George Michael would have to envy legs like that. 

They stepped into the bedroom, where a video camera just happened to be conveniently positioned on a tripod. At that point, even Lindsay had to recognize what Sally had planned, and the old rivalry kicked in. 

"Oh, you can't seduce me, Sally," Lindsay declared, never more certain of her superiority. "I'm going to seduce _you_." 

Sally laughed a little. "I'd like to see you try." She slowly pulled her robe down to reveal the curve of one small breast. She smiled serenely, daring Lindsay not to get turned on. And Lindsay had to admit, it was _very_ nice to watch. 

Lindsay whipped off her own shirt. "Have you even _been_ with a woman, Sally? Because I've been with _plenty_." This was a complete lie unless Mrs. Featherbottom counted, and she totally didn't. 

Sally ran her hands up Lindsay's sides, tracing the curves of her hips and ribs, until she came to cup Lindsay's breasts through her bra. Sally's touch was light and careful, more than Lindsay's other recent lovers, and she would have enjoyed if it weren't Sally's. 

Sally leaned close, her bare breasts brushing against Lindsay's skin. "You must have been pretty desperate to bid that much on me," she whispered in Lindsay's ear. "Especially when I'm running against you for Congress." She drew her arms around Lindsay, pulling them into an embrace. "In fact, is that even legal?" 

"It's called _Citizens United_ ; read it." Lindsay said. She bent and kissed around Sally's breast, slowly closing in on her areola. Sally murmured a little bit, and Lindsay felt a flash of triumph. Who was winning _now_? 

But when Lindsay sucked harder on Sally's nipple, it was just awkward. Sally gave her a glower and demonstrated her own, more nuanced touch. Her hands brushed gently through Lindsay's short hair, and then she kissed Lindsay's cheek. It's been a long time since Lindsay had been touched like this, but she sure as hell wasn't going to let _Sally Sitwell_ make her feel good. Her hands dug into Sally's ass and she growled in Sally's ear, "Maybe you'd know that if your family hadn't been too _poor_ to afford me." 

Sally kissed her hard. It was a long, intense kiss, their lips and tongues shifting positions several times, because neither of them wanted to be the one to break it off first. A distant observer might have even mistaken the two women for lovers, but only because they wouldn't have heard Sally hiss afterwards, "Oh, is _that_ what you wanted, Lindsay? To be a Sitwell? Because I think that makes _me_ the winner." 

Lindsay gave Sally's ass a slap. "What I want now is for you to sit well ... on my face." 

It was one of Lindsay's lamest double entendres, and that was really saying something. Even she had to cringe a little after saying it, and she pulled away from Sally in embarrassment. 

Sally took advantage of the opportunity. She kissed along Lindsay's collarbone and then down her chest in a way that Lindsay definitely did _not_ want to feel as good as it did. But then she tried to unhook Lindsay's bra, and her hands--not used to taking off other women's bras--fumbled with the clasp, and it was Lindsay's turn to look superior. Lindsay tossed her bra aside, her casual, aggressive nudity a contrast to Sally's slow eroticism. 

"Is _this_ what you wanted to see?" Lindsay taunted, running one hand through her air as she thrust her chest out, practically demanding Sally look. 

But no matter how much Sally enjoyed the view, she wasn't about to let herself lose to a pair of tits. She sat back on the bed and casually reclined as she eyed Lindsay's body, making it clear that Lindsay was on display for _her_ approval. With a single commanding finger, she made a downwards motion. "Pants need to come off. Now." 

"My _pants_ , Sally?" Lindsay said, feeling terribly proud of herself for what she was about to do. 

Unfortunately, Lindsay discovered that stripper pants weren't nearly as easy to rip off as G.O.B. had made them look. "I can't -- I think something's stuck--" Lindsay gave them a good yank and found they just stretched. "How do you --" She started to take them off and pulled on one leg as hard as she could, which simply caused her to lose her balance and tumble to the floor in a pile of clothes. "But, still, where did the crotchless panties come from?" 

Sally laughed. "Is that how you're planning on representing us in Congress? Good luck in the D.C." 

"Don't call it that," Lindsay fumed. 

As Lindsay stumbled back to her feet, a picture of awkwardness, Sally was just the opposite. She slowly, gracefully stripped off her robe. One hand slipped into her sheer black underwear, pulling it ever so slightly away from her body, teasing Lindsay with what might happen next. 

It didn't have quite the effect Sally intended. Lindsay had long ago lost all patience for trying to cajole her lovers out of their undergarments. She yanked off Sally's panties in one move and straddled her legs, now feeling like she was back in command. 

Her hands pinned Sally's wrists against the bed. "Oh, Sally. You don't even really want to win this election," she cooed. "I know what you're _really_ after tonight." Lindsay leaned forward and whispered the answer in Sally's ear, and she didn't mean it in the British sense of the word. 

Sally looked, for a moment, like Lindsay might be onto something. Lindsay laughed and pushed her backwards, bending over her. Sally finally retorted, "If I were, it wouldn't be _your_ musty old claptrap," but by that point Lindsay was already on top of her, pushing her down, and the two women fell back onto the mattress. 

Lindsay suddenly became conscious of the fact that she was lying on top of a naked woman, which gave her a bit of pause because she was't really sure what she was supposed to do next. But, hey, it was just _Sally Sitwell_. It wasn't like she was jumping into bed with Ellen Degeneres, just the woman who had almost been her adopted sister. No big deal. 

Lindsay kissed her way down Sally's body, hoping to elicit a sigh of pleasure, some indicator that she was in command and Sally just along for the ride. But Sally, teeth gritted and hands clenched, had no intention of letting Lindsay freaking Bluth get the better of her; she fought to ignore every smack of lips against bare skin, every caress, every march of Lindsay's hands further up her thighs. 

Lindsay's fingers stroked down through Sally's bush--and the whole affair came detached in her hand. Sally looked away, embarrassed, and her resolve shattered. And, when Lindsay kissed her way across Sally's mound, Sally's hips twitched with pleasure. Lindsay slowed her ministrations, taking the time to savor every inch of Sally's body, as her head dropped between Sally's thighs. 

And then, for a moment, she halted. It certainly wasn't like Lindsay had never seen a woman's body before, but she'd never _gone down_ on one. She drew her tongue tentatively against Sally's slit, careful to lick up every drop of Sally's juices. Hmm. Watery, and yet there was a smack of pussy to it. She experimented with a second, more forceful lick and was rewarded by a murmur from Sally. 

And so, at the same time that Lindsay's brother and his archnemesis had convinced themselves to have normal sex, his sister was normally going down on her own archnemesis, who also happened to dating her brother's archnemesis. It was a real complicated situation, the kind you normally expected to see only in a TV show about doctors. 

Sally tried to re-establish her dominance by grabbing Lindsay's hair and grinding her cunt against Lindsay's face, but Lindsay was all too happy to play along. She lapped more and more aggressively at Sally's folds, experimenting with different strokes and patterns, listening to Sally's breathing grow more and more ragged. Mostly, she enjoyed commanding Sally's body like this, but she also appreciated there was also something intimate about her rival completely bared before her like this. 

When she made Sally come, it felt like a long-awaited victory. She'd broken down every barrier Sally had and reduced her to whimpering compliance, her body shaking against the bed. "Well," said Lindsay, "I think that makes _me_ Madam Congresswoman." 

"It's just 'congresswoman.'" Sally shrugged and swung nonchalantly out of bed. Lindsay had been hoping her rival would be overwhelmed by now, but Sally seemed that her oral skills weren't even worthy of comment. Dammit. 

"And I think we're just getting started." Sally opened her bedside drawer, shifted aside a few _Bumpaddle_ magazines, and lifted out a strap-on and harness. She twirled the latter on her finger, treating it like an everyday item scarcely worthy of attention. Lindsay really hoped that was a bluff. 

"You ever seen one of these, Linds? You ready for a woman who's going to bend you over and fuck you until you can't walk?" 

Sally stepped into the harness with a speed that alarmed Lindsay a little: Sally clearly knew _exactly_ what she was doing with this thing. 

But Lindsay certainly wasn't about to show her concern. "I hope you've got a monster," she said, and switched on the bedside light to check. 

Sally stroked the length of her fake cock, looking to Lindsay for a response. Lindsay stared. Sally definitely looked _different_ with it on, and the knowledge that Sally was ready to throw her down and fuck her forced Lindsay to see Sally as a little more than just a pretty face. Lindsay couldn't help but think what it would be like to have it--perfectly hard, extraordinarily long, just thick enough to really fill her--all the way inside her. 

"I've certainly seen better." Lindsay tried to ad lib some indifference. She hoped that talking down a lesbian's strap-on size was some kind of insult. Why didn't they teach this in school? "I suppose it'll do." 

Lindsay flopped down on all fours, eagerly presenting herself to Sally. Sally came up behind her, gripped her hip with one hand, and stroked Lindsay's old c-word. "You're awfully wet for a woman who has 'seen better,'" she retorted. 

"Shut up and fuck me." 

Sally started working her strap-on inside Lindsay in a series of smooth thrusts, first just the head, then a little more of the shaft, then even more. It wasn't hard for Lindsay to get turned on, not when Sally's hips slamming against hers were pushing out all thoughts of rivalry, but she didn't forget to throw out a few insults. "I'm sure you can do it much harder than that," she gasped, "or can you?" 

The bed shifts a little as Sally moves her legs closer to Lindsay's, and Lindsay realizes that, even now, with Sally as far inside her as any cock had ever been, that the whole strap-on still wasn't inside her. Lindsay thrust her hips back, begging for it. Sally pushed even deeper into her, putting her whole body into each movement, their skin smacking together. 

"Harder!" Lindsay insisted through clenched teeth. 

Sally had now picked up the pace considerably. Lindsay was gripping the sheets so tight her knuckles were white and _holy shit_ Sally was deep in her, but she wasn't about to beg for mercy. "You ... call that ... fucking?" she panted. 

"I could take your ass instead," Sally growled. 

One of Sally's dainty hands went to town on Lindsay's clit, and Lindsay realized she didn't care if it was Sally or TV's Frank Wrench touching her down there--it felt fucking _great_ either way--and in fact she liked the juxtaposition of Sally's smooth, soft skin against her body with the _pounding_ her pussy was getting. 

For a brief moment Lindsay caught herself; she realized she'd gotten so wrapped up in being fucked that she forgot about not giving in to Sally Sitwell, but it was too late. Lindsay came hard, her hips positively shaking up and down in the air and being sent into a renewed paroxysm every time Sally touched her clit again. Lindsay remained in position, gasping for breath, until she felt slightly less dazed. 

Sally pulled out and gives Lindsay a light spank to assert her dominance. "Pretty sure I made you come harder. That tape goes to me." 

But Lindsay had waited decades to best Sally Sitwell--in a campaign, in bed, in _something_ \--and wasn't about to take defeat lying down with her ass in the air. She pulled Sally down on to the covers, grabs the lube, and started lubing up Miss Sitwell's pretty, perfect little cunt. 

One finger entered Sally, then a second. If Sally felt any pleasure from it, she didn't show it. She reclined against the wall, quiet and motionless, a picture of perfect self-control, and paid no attention to Lindsay's fingers pumping in out of her. "Go ahead," Sally said. "I'd like to see you make me come like that." 

"I've had my whole _hand_ up a guy beforehand, making him sing," Lindsay threatened, her thumb brushing Sally's clit. 

She got a third finger inside Sally. Sally was forced to let out a little grunt and jerk her hips a little, but she bit her lip and regained control. 

"I was so deep in him I was practically up to his _mouth_ ," Lindsay gloated. 

Lindsay's fourth finger went in, and then the last. Sally wouldn't let herself cry out and give Lindsay the satisfaction, but she opened her mouth silently in a desperate bid for release. Her back arched and she braced herself against the wall. Lindsay lowered her head so that she could blow on and then dab her tongue against Sally's clit. 

Lindsay balled her hand--the one all the way inside Sally, the one completely _buried_ in her--into a fist. Sally's legs shook and her feet kicked in the air, and she finally whimpered and gasped. She pushed herself hard against the wall, trying to steady herself, trying not let herself be carried away… 

…but she couldn't. Lindsay pushed her over the edge, and she positively _screamed_ as she came a second time. Her chest heaved, her whole body shook, and her mouth hung opem. Sally fell back against the bed and sunk into the mattress, exhausted and with all thoughts of rivalry blasted from her mind by what she had just felt. 

And Lindsay was pretty sure she'd won. She took the memory card out of the video camera and quickly pulled her clothes back on. "See you at the debate, Sally," she said, "if you haven't already dropped out of the race."

Lindsay she stepped out of the room, leaving a still-shaken Sally in bed.

And as she walked triumphantly down the hall, feeling that she'd at last gotten the better of Sally, even Lindsay Bluth had to acknowledge her gratitude for the man on whom she had practiced her technique.

She paused on the doorstep and said quietly, "Thank you, Franklin." 

**ON THE NEXT EPISODE OF ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT:**

**Sally** , featuring that her sexual misconduct will soon be leaked to the press, tries to get out in front of the story by recording her own video at Orange County Imaging. 

**Tobias** volunteers as a poll observer so he can get a good look at Carl Weathers's dangling chads. 

**Lindsay** discovers she never actually pressed Record and her hard-won sex tape is just a lightsaber demonstration. 

And **Franklin** is forced to go to the emergency room to remove a gerbil that has been nesting inside him.


End file.
